Part Two: Dry January Meets Mother/Daughter Weekend

In my previous post, I discussed my plans for Dry January.  I was successful in avoiding alcohol until Friday, January 24, the first day of our Mother/Daughter Weekend.  The four of us were staying in a lovely resort that had a good selection of restaurants on site.  On Friday afternoon, we enjoyed lunch at a low key place that had an enticing selection of cocktails.  So, yes, after more than three alcohol free weeks, I had a drink.  It wasn't a really strong drink; it was one of those froufrou cocktails with more mixers than booze...but, it was good!  

After lunch, we went back to our room to catch up on everything.  We hadn't been together for a few years, so there was a lot to discuss.  Eventually, it was time to explore, so off we went to another bar/restaurant.   Unlike our lunch place, this was definitely more bar than restaurant.  Fine by me!  As I've written in a previous blog, I LOVE bars.  They remind me of good times with my father when I was young.  We would sit at the bar where I would drink Cokes and he would smoke his Pall Mall unfiltered cigarettes and drink shots and beers.  He was happy there, and so was I.  Anyway, sitting at the bar with our friends, I decided that I needed a gin martini.  I gave the bartender my order:  a very dry (the vermouth is in the same neighborhood as the Tanqueray gin), dirty (a few drops of olive juice) martini to be shaken (here I demonstrate to the bartender the necessary shaking movement) until there are tiny ice particles on the top when the drink is poured.  

All of this explaining and demonstrating were exhausting, adding to my thirst for gin.  My daughter and her friend were talking nonstop.  My friend and I were talking, but we're older, so we need to take a breath every now and then.  I remember most of what I said during that first martini.  Note the operative word: "first."  Yes, I was so overjoyed with the perfection of that first one...I needed another.  (I believe alcoholics think like this...it's dangerous.)  It all becomes fuzzy after that.  I do remember that a young man sat next to me at the bar.  Poor guy was clueless.  I also remember telling him about my beautiful daughter, and pointing her out to him.  I don't remember any of the other details...honestly, my resistance to that gin suffered tremendously from the three and a half week abstinence.  I was sloshed.  What follows below is what I've been told...I cannot attest to its accuracy.  

Apparently, shots were bought back and forth by the young man and the daughters.  Some sort of bar food was purchased and consumed (I didn't eat any of it...the daughters told me that I said the food was "disgusting," or something along those lines).  I'm sure I was very entertaining.  Eventually, the daughters and my friend decided it was time to go.  From what I've been told, my daughter explained that I would never leave as long as there was still alcohol in my glass (this is starting to sound bad, isn't it?). A strategy was developed:  whenever I turned my head, my friend surreptitiously stuck her paper napkin into my glass, soaking up as much as she could.  Eventually, we must have left, since we are no longer there.

To end, I will cite one of my favorite quotes by Dorothy Parker, "I like to have a martini, two at the very most.  After three I'm under the table, after four I'm under the host."  Note: I stopped at two.